


Valhalla

by Cat_Moon



Series: 101 Resurrections of Ianto Jones [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 05:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19846789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Cat_Moon
Summary: Ianto finds out he's one of the chosen.   #3 in my 101 Resurrections of Ianto Jones series.





	Valhalla

**Author's Note:**

> I challenged myself to write 101 stories bringing Ianto back. Some of these will be short, some long, drabbles, serious, cracky, etc. The point is, it can be done, easily. It's sci fi. Duh.

Between one second and the next, the world changed. Ianto Jones blinked, rubbed his eyes, but the strange vision before him didn't change. He was sitting at a long table, overladen with food and drink. The lighting was subdued and came from what seemed like hundreds of candles. Everything was done in dark wood. And the people... were the strangest of all...

Something was wrong here, very wrong. Even by Torchwood standards. He tried to remember something, anything to help make sense of the situation he found himself in. His memory wasn't cooperating, and every time he tried to grasp something tangible, a sense of panic descended.

Ianto had to know though, for his piece of mind. He caught the eye of the man sitting next to him and asked. “Where am I??”

The dark haired man offered him a slight grin. “Valhalla.”

Well, _that_ wasn't what he was expecting. Ianto coughed and stared. “Excuse me?”

“The hall of Valhalla, where Odin welcomes heroic Vikings who have given their lives.”

Ianto arched an eyebrow. “That's me, blond haired Nordic,” he commented with patented sarcasm.

“The Norse people traveled far and wide. You obviously have some Viking blood in you somewhere.”

“What about you?” Ianto asked the man. He didn't much look like a Viking either, truth be told. Something about the man, he didn't seem as hardened as the others around them.

“I fought with the Vikings, became part of their world...for awhile.”

Ianto picked up a large stein and took a drink. Alcohol, just what he needed. Being dead might not be too bad after all, if booze was available. “So now we... what?”

“Feast. Tonight we feast,” the man said, picking up what looked like a turkey leg (but god knew what animal it came from). “Tomorrow the fighting will start again.”

“And after that?” Ianto asked, not sure he wanted to know anymore.

“We feast again, of course.”

Fighting and dying. And then, apparently eating. Every day, over and over. For eternity.

“And Jack thinks HE has it hard.”

_There is a road that leads to Valhalla_

_Where only the chosen are allowed_

\--Note: Inspired by Road to Valhalla, by White Lion.

**the end**

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so it's not really being alive but he's not exactly dead, sorta, so I'm counting it. I still have over 90 to go after all.  
> \--Bonus points if you can guess who Ianto's dark-haired companion is...


End file.
